Today we had to say good-bye to One Brown Mauser. He'd been with us a little over sixteen years.

He'd been unwell, was losing weight -- far too rapidly -- and was growing weaker and weaker; sometimes he could barely stand... We tried everything we could... On 05 October he was down to four pounds, three ounces; today (12 October) on his last vet visit he weighed three pounds five.

Damn it, why is this so hard to type?

I quote from Aleister Crowley's Gnostic Mass (Liber XV), Eleventh Collect:
"Unto them from whose eyes the veil of life hath fallen may there be granted the accomplishment of their true Wills; whether they will absorption in the Infinite, or to be united with their chosen and preferred, or to be in contemplation, or to be at peace, or to achieve the labour and heroism of incarnation on this planet or another, or in any Star, or aught else, unto them may there be granted the accomplishment of their wills; yea, the accomplishment of their wills."

I'm sure he's frolicking somewhere with the Emperor Norton now.